


Radio Silence

by jensennjared



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Season/Series 10 Finale, season 10 coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 12:58:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4392863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jensennjared/pseuds/jensennjared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam have been searching for the answer to the Darkness, but they've turned up nothing. They wait in silence for redemption. There's no sign of their Angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Radio Silence

It’s been a week since the darkness swallowed the Earth whole; it’s been a week since Dean was scrubbed clean. The darkness hasn’t abated, and the world resides in a never-ending night. The brothers braced themselves, waiting for night’s terrible creatures to rule, and yet there has been nothing. Nothing but silence. No demons, no witches, no ghosts.

No angels. Radio silence.

Books bear no secrets; the words contort and jump about the pages. They spend hour after hour trawling for some remedy, some absolution, but it appears that they have been abandoned.

Dean prays. He whispers words of despair to the only man he could ever worship, and he is bereft of a response. He grows worse; red rings around his eyes and his mouth as dry as sand paper. His angel isn’t listening.

He throws a book across the room; the pages are split from their spine. His chest is heaving and he gets up from his seat at the table, his eyes roaming for a new subject for destruction. He’s losing hope and he can feel it draining away. His hands find the table; the wood sure and steady beneath his skin. There’s the sound of wind blowing through fabric, and he looks up. There in the doorway stands Castiel.

“Hey,” Dean says, his gaze gliding over the angel, “Cas.” He speaks his name as if in prayer; the word imbued with holy meaning.

“The world was ending and you didn’t have the decency to call me.” Castiel’s voice is deep and monotone. His features are dark.

“Cas, I…”

“Sam told me everything.” Castiel’s gaze drops to the floor, unable to look at the man in front of him. “There goes Dean Winchester, the righteous man, offering up his life again. Have you so little regard for me that you couldn’t call?”

“Cas, there - there wasn’t time…”

“I thought I had made amends.” Castiel steps forward, throwing his arms out wide to emphasise his point. “I rebelled. I allied myself with you against all advice.” He steps closer to Dean, meeting him face on. “I have given everything I have to you - to the cause. And you couldn’t even say goodbye.”

“Cas, please.” Dean reaches out for Castiel. His fingers grasp at the angel’s trench coat, but Castiel tears himself away. Turning on his heel to avoid the searing touch.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” His words are sharp, like blades against skin. He shakes his head, unable to put into words what he is truly feeling.

“I couldn’t do it.” Dean calls out. His voice echoes around the room. “It was too damn hard. If I’d spoken to you, I couldn’t have - wouldn’t have the courage. Saying goodbye to you would have broken me, Cas.” He takes tentative steps in Castiel’s direction, hoping to bridge the gap before it is too vast. “How do I melt down six years of - of whatever this is - to one freaking word?”

Castiel stands in the doorway, his head heavy as he considers. “You should have called, Dean.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t, okay? I’m sorry for - so many things.” Dean says. He rubs his face with his hand, wiping away at his shame.

“I know.”

“Just - just let me get this out.” Dean moves forward, closer to Castiel. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times, preparing himself physically. “I’m sorry for giving in. I beat you to within an inch of your friggin’ life, Cas. I let it get the best of me.”

“It wasn’t you, Dean. I know that.”

“No, I let it takeover and I’ve gotta take some responsibility for that.” Castiel shakes his head. “I felt it. The bones in you break. I could see it all happening, but it was like I had no - no power to stop it.” His words linger in the air. Dean knows every second of what happened that night. He remembers Castiel’s resistance, and he remembers calling his bluff.

“Well, the Mark is gone now. The curse has been removed.” Castiel saw the smoke and the lights. The spell worked.

“Yeah, yeah it’s gone.”

“And how do you feel?”

“Swell.” Dean quips.

“Truthfully, Dean?”

“Uh, tired, mostly. And - and worn out.” He suddenly has the desire to sit down, to put his head in his hands. “I feel weaker somehow.”

“You’ve never been weak.” Castiel counters. “You are bound to be worn out. The Mark took a lot out of you.”

“And it gave a lot back.” Dean walks forwards, squaring up with the angel. He peels back the sleeve of his shirt. His fingers drift across the skin that once bore the Mark. He is no longer branded by evil. “I was stronger with it. I was never hungry, never tired. My whole focus was the mission.”

“No, Dean, it consumed you. It made you do things that I know you - the real you - could never do.” Castiel reaches out and places his hand on Dean’s shoulder. His fingers squeeze, and Dean manages to meet the angel’s gaze. Relief comes with Castiel’s touch, and Dean hopes it is the promise of forgiveness. “Your soul may be bruised… battered… but you are, in essence, a good man.”

“I promise, I will never hurt you again.” His brow furrows and he ignores the stinging in his eyes.

“Do not make promises you are unable to keep.” Castiel sighs, shoulders heavy. He steps back, his feet shuffling across the floor. “I must go.”

“Please, Cas. Don’t.” Dean counters Castiel’s steps, knowing that he’ll follow Castiel out of the door if he has to. “You’re my guy.”

“What does that even mean?” Frustration is evident in his tone. Dean’s declaration is foreign.

“I - I don’t know.” Dean scratches at the back of his head. Definitions aren’t exactly his forte. “It means you’re the port in a storm. You know what’s what, always easing me out of a jam. We’re Batman and Robin - Harry and uh, Ron. We’re Cas and Dean, profound bond and all the rest of it.” Dean flings his hands out, palm up. He clutches at thin air, hoping to pull words from the atmosphere. “We’re…” Dean propels forward. His hands cup Castiel’s jaw as he pulls him in close. His lips close over Castiel’s; the angel’s surprise and hesitation is tangible. The kiss deepens and Dean’s hands stray downwards. He grips the lapels of Castiel’s trench coat, holding him fast. The tension in their bodies begins to dissipate as they both soften, melting into the affection between them. Their lips part and they breathe into each other. Dean relinquishes his hold on Castiel, and they stare at each other in silence. “That’s what it means.”

“Alright.” Castiel nods gently.

“Alright?” Dean asks. He searches for something within Castiel’s eyes. “We’re alright?”

“We will be.”


End file.
